


Gingerbread Bargains

by xxDustNight88



Series: Holmes for the Holidays [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Domestic Fluff, Draco and Mycroft are my new favorites, F/M, Fluff, Gingerbread House, M/M, Manipulative Sherlock, Mycroft Holmes Loves Sherlock Holmes, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/pseuds/xxDustNight88
Summary: In which Mycroft and Sherlock compete to see who builds the best gingerbread house and Hermione is forced to choose between the two.





	Gingerbread Bargains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).



> So this fic turned into something rather different. I'd like to introduce a new pairing, Mycroft/Draco because why the hell not. This was a blast to write and I'm shocked I was able to keep it as short as it is because I could have written a couple thousand more words easily. I had no idea where this was going but I love it! I hope you do too and can't wait to see your feedback. Thank you!
> 
> Thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading! Much love, xxDustNight
> 
> Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to J.K. Rowling, BBC, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.
> 
> Written for articcat621 who I have adored for such a very long time. Thank you for being such a brilliant writer and regular friend. This prompt ran away with me and for that I am so very thankful. I hope you love your gift fic! 
> 
> Prompt: Gingerbread house competition between the Holmes brothers. Hermione is the judge.
> 
> Song Recommendation: "White Christmas" by Michael Buble, Shania Twain  
> [Holmes for the Holidays Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1246401351/playlist/1prfNYC9f8LMVVqPzgjs5l)

. . . .

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,_

_Just like the ones I used to know."_

\- White Christmas, Michael Buble, Shania Twain

. . . .

"Come now, Sherlock. Surely,  _you're_  up for a little competition."

Mycroft was cocking an eyebrow at him, his face smug and taunting though he said nothing further. Sherlock was standing in the doorway of his parent's kitchen, thoroughly regretting his decision to abandon his father and John's conversation of war in the living room. He'd come looking for his wife, wanting to check on her since she was bound to need rescuing from his overbearing mother. Only, he'd found Hermione, Mycroft, and his mother in cahoots to get him to build a bloody gingerbread house instead.

"Brother mine, I am always up for competition," he snapped, glaring at his older brother in annoyance. He stomped fully into the kitchen and gestured toward the mess of gingerbread cookies, gumdrops, and bowls of frosting scattered atop the table. "I simply see no logical reason to participate in such nonsensical activities. The houses do not get eaten, nor do they serve any real purpose."

"It's  _fun_ , Sherlock," his mother said, sneaking up behind him and slipping an apron over his head. She quickly tied it, protecting his suit from getting dirtied and earning her an angry glare in the process. "Now, stop being so glum. It's Christmas and your wife wants you to build her a gingerbread house."

Huffing a sigh, Sherlock turned to where his wife was seated and tilted his head in inquiry. "I suppose you are in agreeance with these two?" His frown grew as Hermione's smile widened.

Giving her husband a simple shrug, Hermione placed both hands on her rounded stomach and rubbed gently. "Are you really going to deny your pregnant wife the joy of watching you build a gingerbread house?"

"Who's building gingerbread houses?" Draco asked, sweeping into the room to refresh his cup of eggnog. He paused long enough to peck Mycroft on the cheek, effectively making him flush. He wasn't one for public displays of affection. As Draco refilled his glass, he peered around at everyone. "So? Are we having a competition or not?"

"You're just afraid to lose," Mycroft blatantly told Sherlock, reaching forward to pick up a square piece of gingerbread cookie. "You know I am far superior when it comes to making these. I always have been."

Hermione met Draco's stare across the room and they both rolled their eyes knowing exactly what was going to happen next. Sure enough, Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he dropped into the open chair across from his brother. Snatching a spoon covered in white icing, he pointed it at his brother and grinned mischievously.

"I believe you are recalling our childhood differently again. You were always too busy sneaking tastes of the candies and licking the spoon to properly finish your gingerbread house." Sherlock being Sherlock, licked the spoon now, knowing his brother was on yet another diet.

When Mycroft reached for a gumdrop and threw it at Sherlock, hitting him in the chest, Draco snorted and said, "And on that note, I take my leave. Good luck, darling." He kissed Mycroft quickly again before making for the door with his eggnog.

"Wait!" Hermione sputtered, struggling to twist around to catch him by the sleeve in her overly pregnant state. "You have to stay, Draco. You have to help me judge the competition!"

"Oh, no." Draco held up his free hand, shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I know what happens when the Holmes brothers go head to head, and I want no part of it. That's how we all met, if you recall. Those two and their secret missions getting all mixed up with us Wizarding folk."

"Making gingerbread houses is no cause for a national emergency," Sherock said dryly, picking up and examining two pieces of gingerbread. Seemingly satisfied, he set them on the tray in front of him and then glanced up at Draco. Smiling briefly, he returned to his task. "Besides, your Ministry needed a new entrance. Flushing yourselves down a toilet was positively revolting."

"Sweet Salazar," Draco murmured, scrubbing at his face with his hand as he remembered Sherlock blowing up the Ministry loo entrance. Luckily, he and Mycroft had been able to rectify the situation, falling in love in the process... "World War III is going to erupt over who has the best gingerbread house. I'm sorry, Granger; you're on your own."

"That's Holmes now," Hermione teased, biting her lip and grinning cheekily. She'd helped clear up the mess as well, being head of the MLE at the time. Draco was her assistant head and he'd been the first on the scene when the explosion happened. Explaining the magical world to Mycroft and Sherlock had been more than amusing, but she and Draco had fully benefited from the situation.

"Are you insinuating that I am to  _lose_?" Mycroft asked incredulously leaning forward and staring at his husband with accusatory eyes. The man blatantly ignored Sherlock's smirking face.

Draco's shoulders slumped and he glared at Hermione as if to say,  _Now look what you've done_. "Nope. Definitely not. Bye!" Then he turned and fled from the room. Mrs. Holmes sniggered as she rolled out pie crust on the counter.

"Coward," Hermione muttered turning back around and gesturing to Sherlock and Mycroft. "I guess it's just me then, and don't think for one second that I'm going to choose your house Sherlock without good reason." His head snapped up and he gave her an affronted look. "No way, it's your fault my ankles are swollen three times their normal size. Your house is going to have to be  _really_  well done in order to win." She threw a wink at her mother-in-law and then settled back to watch the Holmes brothers get to work.

. . . .

An hour or so later, Sherlock and Mycroft both had beautifully constructed gingerbread houses before them. Mrs. Holmes had long since disappeared to see how Mary and little Rosie were fairing. More than likely, she'd probably grown tired of her sons' bickering. Hermione didn't mind it, finding more amusement than annoyance from it all. Having grown up as an only child, she relished times when she got to spend time with families that had siblings.

"Okay," Hermione interrupted, causing them to set aside their icing and candies. "I think that's enough. Back away from the table, boys. It's time for judging!" She had to admit, even if it was just to herself, she was more than a little excited to tease them mercilessly.

Sherlock and Mycroft gave each other scornful glances before backing away to stand against the counter. Mycroft ran a hand through his hair, its normally perfected appearance tousled and in need of a comb. Sherlock had a smudge of white frosting across his cheek and Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd managed to smear it across his trouser bottoms as well.

Struggling to her feet, Hermione placed one hand gently on her swollen stomach and then began her slow walk around the kitchen table. She hummed thoughtfully as she inspected each gingerbread house, noting both the flaws and the pieces that made them stand out. Mycroft's was probably the more durable of the the two, standard looking with a gumdrop walkway and frosted windows. Sherlock's on the other hand was two stories, slightly tilted, but it did resemble the house they were currently celebrating Christmas inside.

Even if she wasn't married to and having the detective's child, she probably would have migrated towards his as an obvious winner. Sneaking a glance at her acerbic husband, she found him smirking at her as if he too knew this. Smug bastard. She was going to make him work for his victory. Wetting her lips, she gave him a sly grin of her own and looked to Mycroft.

"This is really well done, Mycroft," she told him, tapping a finger on the table next to his house. "I never knew you had such a talent for making gingerbread houses." Sherlock scowled at her words and crossed his arms while Mycroft perked up and preened under her praise.

"Why thank you, Hermione," he replied cheerfully. "I always did have a bit of a knack for building these beauties. Mother used to set them on the counter for days when we were children."

"Don't lie, Mycroft," Sherlock snapped, stomping forward. "You know you never finished a single gingerbread house when we were growing up, and if you did, mother certainly didn't set it out for display."

"You're just jealous that Hermione finds my gingerbread house superior to your wobbly little excuse for a shack," Mycroft returned, eyes narrowed and voice dark.

"Now, now," Hermione said as she stepped between the two brothers. "I never said I was picking yours, just that it was beautiful." Inside she was dying with laughter, enjoying their bickering as they tried to prove their house was best. "Sherlock's may be a bit wobbly, but it does take a striking resemblance to this house."

"I was inspired by our parents' home, this is true." Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back and gave Mycroft a smug grin as if this solidified his win. Glancing back at his wife, he asked, "So, my love, whose house do you believe takes the cake, as it were?" Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock's question.

"It's really a difficult decision," she teased, earning her frowns from both Holmes. "I think I need a few minutes to deliberate before I announce the winner."

At that moment, Mrs. Holmes returned to the kitchen. "Still no clear winner?" she asked, patting Hermione on the shoulder. "Well, you two boys can help me clean up the mess you made while she decides."

"Sherlock's the one who spilled the frosting on the table, mother," Mycroft tattled as if he were a young child again. Hermione giggled, but Sherlock huffed and glared at his brother.

"Why don't you have another spoonful, Mycroft? I saw you sneaking licks all afternoon." This earned him a glare and Mycroft's fingers twitched as if wanting to grab hold of his umbrella. According to Sherlock, there was a sword hidden in there and she and Draco had a good laugh reminiscing about his father's old cane that held his wand.

"You both stop that or I'm going to say that  _neither_  of you have won!" Hermione scolded which caused them jump into action. Mrs. Holmes gave her a grateful smile before beginning to instruct them on what to clean.

They immediately set about helping their mother tidy the table for dinner. While they did that, Hermione moved the two trays holding the houses to the counter so she could do her final inspections. She needed to pick a winner, and while Sherlock's was the clear winner, she was nearly tempted to pick Mycroft's just for the fun it would cause. If only Sherlock wasn't so emotional… She sighed and lost herself in thought, wishing Draco hadn't chickened out and was here to help.

Hermione gasped as Sherlock came up behind her and tucked his chin into the crook of her neck. Kissing just under her earlobe, he whispered, "If you pick my house, I'll make sure to run you a hot bath when we get upstairs later." His hands rubbed up and down her arms, effectively causing goosebumps to rise. Mycroft was distracted by his mother and missed the exchange. "Then, afterward, I'll give you a full body massage, especially for those swollen ankles. How does that sound?"

Biting her lip to keep from moaning aloud, Hermione merely nodded. Sherlock knew exactly what she liked and she was hardpressed to say no at this point. Dropping her voice so only he would hear, she asked, "What about after the massage?" She smirked as she felt his lips form a smile against the sensitive skin of her neck. She had him.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock mumbled, his voice low and full of amusement laced with arousal. He placed another kiss to the shell of her ear this time, hands coming to rest on her hips as he pressed himself fully against her back. "You have a deal."

And then, he was gone and she felt oddly cold in his absence. Suddenly, she could hardly wait for the day to end so she could hold Sherlock to his word. She waited until he'd situated himself back at the table, stealing into the conversation with his mother and brother so easily it was as if he'd been over there the entire time. Chuckling, she was certain Mycroft knew exactly what had been done, but if it had been Draco doing the judging, he'd have fallen for exactly the same ruse.

Clearing her throat, Hermione called everyone's attention back to herself for the big reveal. "Okay, you lot. After much deliberation, I've made my decision." Smiling and rubbing her belly affectionately, she met all their stares in turn and then shrugged. "While your house is very much traditional, Mycroft, I have to go with Sherlock's. Something about it just feels so rustic and makes me think of Christmas when I was a little girl. I'm sorry."

Sighing, Mycroft first glared at Sherlock, who managed to look surprised at her decision before he walked forward and pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Hermione. I can accept defeat with grace." After releasing Hermione, Mycroft returned to Sherlock and held out his hand. "Congratulations, brother mine."

Sherlock accepted the handshake with a suspicious glare, but he did accept it nonetheless. "Thank you," he said with superiority, his shoulders straight and that smug grin back on his lips. "Loser sits by the door?"

"Absolutely not," Mycroft returned quickly.

"Boys, boys, boys," Mrs. Holmes cut in before they could get to fighting, ushering them into helping her set the table now.

Satisfied with the turn of events, Hermione stepped out of the fray to grab herself a glass of holiday punch from the bowl on the counter. Mycroft didn't seem too put out about his loss so she didn't feel poorly for cheating him out of a proper win. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Draco smirking at her. "I see you've returned only  _after_  the winner has been revealed."

"You should have been a Slytherin, Granger," Draco quietly pointed out, leaning against the doorframe and joining her in watching the brothers squabble over the seating arrangements. He'd snuck into the kitchen at some point without them noticing. "You're even more cunning than myself at times."

Laughing quietly, she glanced up at him with a grin, not bothering to correct him for using the wrong name. She also wasn't going to bother denying his claim; instead, she just shook her head and looked back at Sherlock affectionately. "Oh, I don't know, Draco. I think that I just know a good gingerbread house when I see one." Turning, she gave him a wink before joining her husband in helping set the table.

Mycroft wandered over then and allowed Draco to place a comforting arm around his shoulders. "You got swindled, you do know that right?" He asked, smirking as Hermione and Sherlock playfully argued over the best way to fold the napkins.

"Of course," Mycroft replied softly, a fond smile on his face. Nothing more was said on the subject, the older Holmes brother allowing his younger brother the satisfaction of a good win. It was as it always was in the Holmes household, Mycroft ensuring that his brother was happy and that their family was safely content, gingerbread bargains aside. Giving his husband a nudge he added, "I'll win next year."

"Sure you will," Draco said with a laugh. "Next year Rosie will be old enough to participate too, not to mention Sherlock will probably enlist the help of his infant son or daughter." Draco had to bite back a laugh as Mycroft's face fell knowing he was perfectly right. He was never going to win one of these competitions.

"Damn."


End file.
